


A Fairy Tail Ending

by akat



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Fairy Tail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-10 15:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akat/pseuds/akat
Summary: It was a Fairy Tail ending for Buffy -- well, except that she was about as far from her ‘happily ever after’ as she could be. She was also nowhere near the end of her story, at least as far as she was concerned.





	1. Break On Through

**Rating** : FR15, for violence and because some Fairy Tail characters have got mouths on them.  
 **Timeline** : End of BtVS Season 5 and a year before Fairy Tail starts.  
 **Disclaimer** : BtVS is Joss Whedon’s and Mutant Enemies. Fairy Tail is Hiro Mashima’s. Chapter titles are from songs by The Doors.

 **A/N** : For those of you who have read my previous stories, you’ll be pleased -- and astonished -- to know that I have this story almost completely finished in draft form, so updates will be posted regularly. This is a conscious attempt of mine to keep ongoing stories from lingering out there in the unfinished abyss, having learned my lesson from stories past. 

I want to thank kerrykhat and ShalaDakiri for letting me bounce some ideas off them and taking a look over this first chapter. You’re the best!

Alright, enough notes, onto the story!

+++

__

_You know the day destroys the night_  
_Night divides the day_  
_Tried to run_  
_Tried to hide_  
_Break on through to the other side_

As Buffy careened toward the portal, the crackle of magical energy getting louder and louder until it was practically deafening, she felt a strange sense of a peace wash over her. She didn’t care that she was going to die. Dawn was safe, her friends were safe, the whole world was safe. She couldn’t ask for more than that, not when the odds had been stacked against them so badly. When she hit the portal and felt the magic rip through her body, she simply closed her eyes and let go.

Needless to say, she was a bit peeved when she opened her eyes a few moments later, very much alive and in a world of pain.

How she survived the fall, she didn’t know, and she didn’t have time to figure it out. She obviously had gone through the portal, which meant she had been sucked into Glory’s world. She knew all too well that there was no rest for the weary in a hell dimension.

Though her entire body protested, Buffy pulled herself to her feet as quickly as she could, broken bones and all, and braced herself for an attack. Admittedly, she wouldn’t be able to do much, but she hadn’t come this far only to die lying down.

But the attack never came. There was no one around _to_ attack her; no hell gods, no minions, nothing, just cracked, desolate earth as far as the eye could see. 

All things considered, this was small comfort to Buffy. Though her death wasn’t as imminent as she thought -- for the second time that day -- the situation was far from okay. She was still stuck in a hell dimension, where the odds of finding a friend were slim. At the same time, if she didn’t find help soon, there was a good chance she would die anyway; if not from her injuries then of dehydration or exposure to the elements. 

That was why, though pain raced through her body with every step, Buffy began to drag herself across the barren terrain, hoping against hope that the situation wasn’t nearly as dire as it seemed.

+++

Buffy half-walked, half-crawled across the cracked, dry earth for what seemed like hours. With each step, she became more and more desperate to find someone, _anyone_. Seriously, she would’ve taken a hell god, if only to know she wasn’t completely alone. But she couldn’t find a single sign of life. Still, she kept going, pushing onward until her legs finally gave out on her.

Her eyes were closed before her head touched the ground. 

She told herself not to get too comfortable, that she wasn’t planning on staying, that she hadn’t given up. But she couldn’t go on, either, not yet…

Despite her best efforts, Buffy felt herself begin to drift off. As she did, her thoughts turned to Dawn and her friends. 

Even though they knew the portal would kill her, they wouldn’t accept that, she was sure of it. They would look for her. It would take time, though. That meant she needed to survive long enough for them to find her -- or find a way home herself.

It was just the boost she needed. Buffy’s eyes snapped open, all traces of tiredness gone. With a renewed sense of determination, she got to her feet and began walking again. She made it another half mile before she stopped again; this time, however, it wasn’t because of exhaustion. 

There, on the horizon, was a building -- at least she thought it was. As she drew closer, she saw that she was right, though it was like no building she had ever seen before. Although it was as tall as a skyscraper, it was shaped like a crescent moon with random beams and poles sticking out of it. 

It looked like it was right out of a sci-fi movie. 

Buffy bit her lip. It was not the most encouraging sign. On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly in a place where she could be picky. Deciding to take her chances, she headed toward the strange building. She was slightly surprised when she was able to march up to the front door without raising any alarms. She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so she simply took a deep breath and knocked. 

She got no response whatever. Not ready to give up, she tried again. And again. And again.

Each time she was met with complete silence. 

Though it was abundantly clear she was being ignored, Buffy didn’t leave. She simply leaned against the door as she contemplated her next move. She didn’t get very far, however, before a voice came booming out over a loudspeaker. 

“Who are you and what is your business here?”

Buffy almost sagged in relief, and not just because they finally acknowledged her presence. She actually understood them; they were speaking English. If that weren’t miraculous enough, they weren’t making death threats. It made her think that maybe she wasn’t in a hell dimension at all. Maybe she wasn’t even in a different dimension.

Scrambling to her feet, she quickly replied. 

“I’m Buffy, Buffy Summers. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m, uh, a little lost here.”

The speaker went silent, and time seemed to stretch on for an eternity as Buffy waited for a response. She knew better than to leave, though. 

Sure enough, the front door creaked open a few minutes later, and a smallish man in a robe stepped out. He looked unassuming, friendly even, with an easy smile on his face. Buffy didn’t trust him one bit. There was just something about him that sent her spidey senses off the charts. As inconspicuously as she could, she stepped back, trying to put as much distance between them as possible as she scanned the area for a weapon.

If he noticed, he didn’t show it. 

“Hello, there,” he greeted her. “I apologize for the wait. We don’t get many visitors around here.”

“No big,” Buffy shrugged. “I don’t want to be a hassle, so if you can just point me in the direction of the nearest town, I’ll just get going.”

The man’s smile grew wider. “Nonsense. You’re obviously injured. Come in and we’ll see to your wounds and give you a hot meal. It’s the least we can do. After all, you won’t find any other help for miles.”

His eyes grew sharp, making it impossible to mistake his meaning. 

Buffy felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks, and she silently cursed herself for her stupidity. Before she could even formulate an escape plan, however, the guy held his hands out as a strange circle of light enveloped them. Then, before she could even blink, he shouted something and the light shot out at her. Too injured to even manage a decent dodge, Buffy was hit squarely in the chest. 

She was out cold before she hit the ground.

+++

Buffy spent the next few days drifting in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of voices around her, but she could barely differentiate between them; they often blurred together in a hazy fog. Even when she could tell them apart, she only caught snippets here and there.

_“... were correct… possesses a unique kind of magic… extraordinary healing abilities… incredible strength… snapped through the chains several times… had to use the ones usually reserved for… haven’t seen in Earth Land before… not accessible as wizards’ magic… latent, hidden within but powerful nonetheless…”_

_“... interesting to see if we could tease it out, no? … implications for our research…”_

_“... one other thing… followed her track as you ordered… couldn’t find where she came from… but found this buried in…”_

_“... key?… she’s not a celestial...”_

_“... it is a mystery…”_

_“... does not matter… orders to proceed… will be returning soon and will expect results…”_

She knew they were talking about her, but she couldn’t make sense of what they were saying. She couldn’t even hold on to the words in her head. It was disconcerting, to say the least -- until she realized that they were drugging her.

It made her burn with resentment, especially since there wasn’t much she could do about it. Helpless to do anything else, she forced herself to take in as much information into her jumbled brain as she could, vowing that she would use it to break out of this hellhole the first chance she got. 

To her dismay, she discovered that it wouldn’t be easy. In addition to the drugs, her captors had shackled her to a bed. No matter how much she pulled, the chains didn’t budge, not even if she used all the Slayer strength she could muster. 

That alone set the alarm bells ringing. All the medical equipment around her took it to a whole new level. She almost didn’t believe it when she saw the IV line in her arm and all the monitors she was hooked up to. She couldn’t deny it, though. Her wounds were being well-tended to, which meant they had obviously been taking care of her. That begged the question why, since they obviously weren’t rolling out the welcome mat otherwise. 

She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. 

The first day she woke up without feeling that deep ache in her bones or the fuzzy feeling in her head, she was whisked out of her room and taken into a larger one. Before she could sort out what was happening, she found herself suspended over a large, seemingly bottomless pit in the center of the room. The only thing that kept her from falling into the black hole was all these cables and wires that were attached to her from head to toe. 

Above her stood half a dozen people. At least, she assumed they were people; it was hard to tell with the robes and masks. 

Then the pain started, and she she forgot about everything else.

+++

It took a few failed escape attempts and some overheard conversations for Buffy to realize that she had fallen into a world of magic -- or perhaps more specifically, the magical Pit of Despair. There was no other way to describe what was happening to her. The guy who greeted her at the door -- Count Rugen, as she began to refer to him in her head -- was in charge. He and his minions routinely tortured the crap out of her as part of their ‘experiment’, sometimes to the point where she blacked out. Some days, all she could remember was the pain. When she tried to escape, they walloped her with rocks and knives and wind and whatever else they could conjure through magic spells; her time in ‘The Machine’ was almost always worse the next day. Through it all, they kept those stupid handcuffs on her, the only exception being when she was connected to The Machine. And yet whenever she was returned to her room, it was always with a nice, big meal and a day’s rest before the cycle started all over again. The room itself was even nice; at least, it started that way. As Buffy made a weapon out of everything in it, however, they slowly took it all away until all she was left with was a mattress, a pillow, and some paperback books.

When the last creature comfort was removed from her room, Buffy finally admitted that her strategy wasn’t working. Instead of letting it get her down, she quickly switched to a new one, one where she was more compliant. After all, knowing you had broken your prisoner gave someone a sense of power, of confidence, and in Buffy’s experience, over-confidence led to mistakes.

Buffy started slowly, wanting to make it seem believable, though in truth, it wasn’t that hard to do. Constant torture had an effect on anyone, and Buffy was no exception. But it changed nothing. No matter how timidly she moved from her room to the torture chamber, how pitifully she whimpered after one of her sessions, how blankly she stared at the wall in her room on her days off, the cuffs stayed on and the routine never changed. 

Force hadn’t worked, and apparently neither would compliance. That didn’t leave much else. Though Buffy refused to give up hope altogether, she felt her resolve begin to waver. 

That all changed the day she passed another girl in the hallway. She looked about the same age, with long black hair and dark eyes. What really struck Buffy, though, was the terrified look in her eyes as the guards dragged her down the hall and shoved her in the room next to Buffy’s. 

Buffy couldn’t help but stare. She had thought she was the only one there. She almost thought she was hallucinating. And yet when she got back to her room, she clearly heard faint sobs coming from the room next to her. 

“Hey,” Buffy whispered through the wall. “Are you okay?”

She realized it was a really stupid thing to say. Of course the girl wasn’t okay, but--

“Where am I?” 

Buffy gave a small chuckle. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“Oh.”

“My name’s Buffy, by the way,” she said quickly, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Ultear.”

It was an unusual name, but Buffy was the last one to comment on something like that, so she wisely did not comment on it. Before she could think of something else to say, however, the crying started again. 

“Hey,” Buffy whispered. “Whatever you do, don’t let them break you, okay? Don’t fight them, just.. stay strong.” 

Buffy held her breath as she waited for a response. It took awhile, but she eventually heard a quiet, “Okay.”

+++

Despite her promise, Ultear wasn’t strong enough. Buffy could hear it every time the girl came back from one of her sessions. This place was going to kill her, and fast.

Desperate to get Ultear’s mind off the torture she had just experienced, Buffy pressed against the wall and whispered, “Hey, Ultear, what did the first plate say to the second plate?” 

The sobs quieted down, though Ultear said nothing. 

Undeterred, Buffy delivered the punchline. “‘Dinner’s on me!’”

“That’s terrible,” Ultear sniffled. 

Buffy grinned. “Without a doubt. You can thank my friend for that. He knows a ton of corny jokes, which he regularly inflicts on the rest of us.”

“They must worried about you,” Ultear said quietly, so quietly Buffy almost didn’t hear the next part. “Do you… do you think they’re looking for you?” 

Blowing out her breath, Buffy leaned her head back against the wall. “Yeah, maybe. I hope so. What about you? Someone must be looking for you, too.” 

“No,” Ultear said flatly. “There’s no one.” 

The answer came so quickly, so harshly, Buffy physically recoiled from the response. She had obviously stuck her nose where it didn’t belong, and she felt terrible about it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she apologized. 

She heard Ultear sigh, sounding forlorn once again. “No, you didn’t. It’s just… my mother died when I was young. I don’t have anyone else.”

Buffy felt a hitch in her throat. “I don’t know _exactly_ how you feel, but… my mother died, too, just this past year. I still feel the hole in my heart,” she admitted. “She was the best.” 

“Mine, too,” Ultear whispered. 

Both girls fell silent after that, each lost in their own thoughts. For Buffy, Ultear’s words echoed in her head. She couldn’t imagine not having anyone in her life. Then again, it was probably why Ultear had been targeted in the first place. No one would miss her. 

Buffy bolted upright as something occurred to her. She had stumbled across this secret lair accidentally. Count Rugen had made it clear that they were caught off guard by her appearance. On the other hand, if Ultear was targeted, they would have to have transported her some way.

“Ultear, how did you get here?” she whispered. 

“I-- I don’t know. One minute I was walking down the street, the next I was in a four-wheeler.”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “A four-wheeler? Do you mean they have a car? Here? Did you see where they put the keys?” 

“Keys?” Ultear asked, her confusion obvious. “Four-wheelers don’t need keys to run, just magical energy.” 

Buffy bit her lip. “If we found one, could you power it?” 

She heard Ultear gasp, seemingly struck speechless. When she found her voice again, her excitement was palpable.

“Yes.”

+++

From that moment, Buffy put all her energy into plotting their escape. Recognizing that her biggest obstacle was the handcuffs, she focused on the only time she didn’t have them on -- when she was hooked up to The Machine.

Making any kind of move when she was dangling over a bottomless hole was dangerous, especially when she was connected to a bunch of wires. That meant her only real window was _after_ the torture session. There was a real danger in doing that, though, the biggest one being that she would fall in. The reason why she hadn’t done it before was because she usually finished those sessions as weak as a kitten.

But what if she could use that to her advantage?

Over the next handful of sessions, Buffy began testing her captors. When they disconnected her, she immediately curled into a ball, forcing her body into a kind of rigor so they couldn’t immediately snap the cuffs on. To her delight, they bought her act. When she uncurled herself a few minutes later, they promptly put the cuffs on. With each session, she extended the time it took for her to ‘recover’, until eventually they started wheeling her back to her room on a gurney without any cuffs on her wrists -- passing right by a hallway with large windows that lead to the outside. Knowing her chances weren’t going to get any better than this, she made her plans to strike. 

She waited until the next day to clue Ultear in on her plan, using the time the two of them usually talked, after Ultear’s session. 

“Ultear,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, be ready.” 

Slowly, the other girl’s cries subsided. “For what?” she asked. 

Buffy grinned. “It’s time we checked out of the Bates Motel, don’t you think?”

+++

Buffy’s entire body thrummed with adrenaline the next day. The pain from The Machine barely touched her, though she did a darn good job pretending it did. When they took out the keys to unlock her room, she made her move.

The guards didn’t know what hit them. She easily subdued them before they could work their magic on her. Then she grabbed the keys still dangling from the door and raced over to Ultear’s room. 

She grinned when she heard the click of the lock and yanked the door open.

“One ticket out of this dump, just like I--”

The words died in her throat as she finally got a good look inside the room. 

There were dozens of guards there. Standing in front of them all was a pink-haired girl, and next to her was Ultear, looking very much large and in charge.

“I’m sorry to hear you’re unhappy with your accommodations,” Ultear purred, as more guards filtered in behind Buffy, effectively trapping her. “I’ll have to see what I can do to make your stay here more pleasant.” 

Then, without waiting for a response, she hurled a green orb at Buffy. 

Buffy managed to dodge its first pass. She even thought she dodged the second; she actually saw it hit one of the guards in front of her. Right before it did, however, a strange pink tattoo encircled her wrist; one that also appeared on the wrist of the guard. When he fell down in agony, so did she. 

She had no way of avoiding the next hit. 

As her vision began to fade, Buffy cursed her luck. While she had identified Count Rugen, it had never occurred to her that Humperdinck was here as well. Or that she was an Academy Award winning bitch.

+++

Buffy was drugged again. She could feel it. Still, she forced herself to listen in on the conversation around her.

“My apologies, ma’am,” she could hear Count Rugen saying. “She wasn’t nearly as… complacent as we had thought. If you hadn’t devised that ruse--” 

“See that it doesn’t happen again. Warriors like this one do not allow their spirits to break so easily. Now that we know, however, it changes the rules of the game, doesn’t it? Perhaps we should implant the new dragon lacrima prototype in her.” 

That was Ultear, Buffy thought, recognizing her voice immediately. She heard Count Rugen hesitate to reply.

“But we are only just starting to see results. The additional jolt of magical energy would completely destabilize her. The lacrima would most certainly kill her.” 

“Yes, but it would be fascinating to see what happens until then,” Ultear said. “Besides, after her escape attempt, I now realize we have little chance of controlling her. Her death will serve a better purpose.”

“What if she survives, though? She is quite resilient. Transforming someone like her into a dragon slayer could be disastrous--”

“You said yourself that she will die, didn’t you?” Ultear demanded.

That cowed the Count. “Yes, ma’am,” he meekly replied. 

There was a lull in the conversation until Ultear spoke again. 

“You’re quiet, Meredy. What is it?” 

A young, feminine voice spoke, probably coming from the pink haired girl Buffy say earlier. “It’s just… I still think it’s strange that you’ve rebuilt the very place you hate, where you lost everything.”

“None of it matters. Once we find Zeref, all our sins in this life will wash away, including this one,” Ultear said confidently. Then she paused. “It’s a shame, though. I rather like Buffy. She reminds me of who I could’ve been. No matter, we have stayed here long enough. Master Hades calls. I trust this to you, Doctor.”

+++

Buffy felt as if she were burning from the inside out. The pain was unimaginable, much worse than anything she experienced in The Machine. She fought tooth and nail against the magic that was devouring her, but it was a battle she couldn’t win. In fact, it was killing her. She could feel herself slipping away, becoming so weak that her captors didn’t even bother with the handcuffs anymore.

For days, she lingered like that, hovering on the brink of life and death, until finally, she awoke one morning to find Count Rugen and one of his minions standing over her.

“She’s dying, sir,” the minion reported. “Her body is rejecting the lacrima, as expected. She’s not going to make it.”

Count Rugen grunted. “Very well. Dispose of her body. Remove the lacrima first, though. We can use it again.”

“Yes, sir.”

Buffy vaguely felt herself being lifted onto a gurney. Then she was moving. 

They were going to rip out whatever they put inside her and then ‘dispose’ of her -- all before she was even dead. Then they would do this to someone else. 

An anger sparked deep inside Buffy’s chest. It consumed her entire being, overwhelming everything in its path -- including her ongoing battle with the foreign object implanted within her. 

With that barrier removed, the magic surged within her, washing over her, _through her_ , rippling under her skin as the power swelled within her, concentrating especially over her heart. She was powerless when the ball of magic coiling within her burst a few moments later.

Instinctively, Buffy threw her arms up to protect herself. It helped shield her against the bits of metal and stone and water that fell all around her, but it couldn’t shield her when the floor beneath her collapsed. 

The last thing she heard was the panicked screams of people all around her.

+++

It was deathly quiet when Buffy woke. As her vision slowly came back into focus, she saw why.

Whatever she had done caused the building to collapse. Now, she, along with a handful of dead minions, were buried underneath the rubble, a mixture of broken stone and mud. 

Mindful of the multitude of scrapes and bruises she was now sporting, she carefully picked herself up and began looking for a way out, using her nose to find the pockets of fresh air. 

It was easier than she thought. While she had always had a good sense of smell thanks to her slaying powers, now it was suddenly off the charts; all her senses were. She could smell _everything_. The hard part was the digging; not only was she still weak from the whole ordeal, but she was also buried under the building much further than she initially thought. 

It made her wonder how she had survived, let alone with so few injuries. She pushed those thoughts aside, however, and focused on the task at hand. When she finally reached the surface, she discovered that she was alone once again, though she did see fresh tire tracks heading off in one direction. 

They had probably assumed she had died in the explosion, Buffy surmised. Not that she was complaining. She wasn’t going to hang around to see if they came back, either. 

As quickly as she could, she scavenged for supplies, weapons, and non-lab rat looking clothes. Once she had collected all three things, she set off -- in the complete opposite direction of the tire tracks. 

Sadly, it felt a lot like the first time she made the trek. Buffy still had no idea where she was, not really; and she definitely had no idea where she was going. Like last time, she was also sporting some nice injuries for the journey. 

There was one big difference, though. This time, she wasn’t just a vampire slayer. She was a dragon slayer, too -- whatever that meant.

+++

A/N: Yes, this story opens with the ubiquitous portal travel -- but it’s not just a means to an end. At all. And that’s all I can say about that. ;) 


	2. Chapter 2: You're Lost Little Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to LolaIsAwesome and aoi24 for the kudos!

+++

_You’re lost little girl  
Tell me  
Who are you?_

Buffy stared at the outline of the town before her, unable -- or maybe unwilling -- to believe her eyes. After all, she had been walking through the valley of the shadow of death for days now with an almost non-existent supply of water. This wasn’t the first time she had ‘seen’ something on her journey, and she doubted it would be the last.

With a bitter sigh, she drew her gaze away from the tempting mirage and forged on. Even though she knew she was heading in the same direction as the ‘town’, she refused to look at it again, knowing that it would eventually disappear, just like all the others had.

Except it didn’t. It only grew bigger and bigger in both size and detail until she couldn’t ignore it any longer. Now when she looked at it, she could see that it was situated at the base of a hill with a large wall encircling it; the wall itself was surrounded by trees, which extended up the hillside. Still, Buffy chalked it all up to delirium, giving major props to herself for being so detail-oriented in her delusions. When the smells and sounds from the town began filtering to her nose and ears, however, when she could actually _taste_ the change in the air, her mind finally accepted what her recently enhanced senses were trying to tell her.

It was real. She had found a place that had food and water and shelter. 

Buffy should’ve been jumping for joy. The truth of the matter was the exact opposite, however. Beyond jaded from her time in the Pit of Despair, she just couldn’t bring herself to go inside. She could barely bring herself to stand in front of the large wall that surrounded the town. Instead she ducked into the trees lining the edges of town and moved around the outside perimeter of the wall, opting to find the water source that fed the town. 

Though she had been managing her thirst well up until that point -- mostly by ignoring it -- the thought of finally finding some relief made her throat constrict painfully in anticipation, as if she had suddenly tried to swallow the Sahara in one gulp. The feeling only intensified when she realized there was no water to be found. The town had built its walls around the open water. It was sound city planning, she supposed, but it left her beyond demoralized. 

Sitting down on the ground, Buffy buried her head in her hands and screamed, as all the pain and anguish and frustration she had carefully bottled up suddenly came rushing to the surface. It was all strictly metaphorical, at least it was supposed to be; as Buffy felt all her emotions bubble up inside her, however, something _else_ bubbled up from the ground beneath her.

With a yelp, Buffy leapt to her feet and looked down, only to discover that she was standing in a puddle of water. It was too good to be true -- which meant it probably was. And yet, at the sight of the water at her feet, Buffy fell to her knees and began scooping up handfuls of it to her mouth without a second thought. She didn’t care how it got there or if it was tainted, magically or otherwise. All she thought about was the way the cool liquid soothed her burning throat. When she had enough to take the edge off her thirst but not so much that she would be sick, she laid back on the nearest patch of dry ground and sighed. 

With a clearer mind and emotions firmly under control once again, she thought over her current situation. The way she saw it, she had two choices. She could avoid the town altogether or she could go inside. The safer choice was to continue on her own. She wasn’t sure how long she could last that way, though. While she had found water here, she had no idea how; there was no guarantee she would find more, either. Food was completely out of the question. Not only were her foraging skills were non-existent, but she wouldn’t even begin to presume to know what was poisonous and what was edible in this world. 

No, the truth of the matter was that she couldn’t avoid civilization forever; she wouldn’t survive. She could dictate the terms, though. 

Gathering her remaining strength, Buffy scaled a tree close to the wall. She made sure she climbed just high enough so that she could pick up the sounds from within a little more clearly but not so high that she could see over it -- and conversely so that people could see her. Once she found a decent perch, she closed her eyes and concentrated.

There were so many people inside. The town was filled to the brim. She could hear children laughing, adults commenting on the weather, wagons wheeling through the streets. She even caught a stray argument here and there. What she didn’t hear was anything sounding remotely suspicious. Despite her rocky start in this world, it seemed like she had stumbled upon a town filled with normal, non-evil sounding people. 

That was the only reason Buffy found herself standing at the gates the next morning, despite her misgivings.

She didn’t enter the town wholly unprepared, though. In her hand, she had discreetly hidden a knife, and as she walked, she kept a constant watch over her shoulder, still not convinced that Ultear wasn’t going to step out of the shadows and reveal this was all just another twisted game of hers.

Thankfully, nothing like that happened. The town was completely normal -- by _Earth’s_ standards. 

Buffy knew some similarities existed. She had seen them with her own eyes in the Pit; she had heard them, too, when she had eavesdropped on this community. It was shocking, however, to realize just how many there were. 

The town looked like it was straight out of a brochure for Europe; the streets were made of cobblestone, there were plazas and public fountains everywhere, and the buildings were cute stone and wooden structures with thatched roofs, containing a mix of apartment complexes, stores and restaurants. 

The people were completely ordinary, too; working and playing, bustling about as they did every day chores like grocery shopping and taking out the trash. Even their clothes were familiar; styles ranged from mish-mash of modern American to throwbacks from around the world. The biggest difference was their hair. While Buffy saw blondes, brunettes, and redheads walking about, she also saw people with blue hair, green hair, purple hair, and every other color of the rainbow hair. If anything, she was _boring_ here.

That wasn’t to say that people didn’t notice her, though. As she walked through the streets, she was highly aware of the looks she was receiving. Some looked at her curiously, others a bit more warily. A few even gave her a friendly nod. It wasn’t until she reached the center of town that someone actually tried to talk to her, though.

“Are you alright, dear? You look a bit... lost.”

Buffy whirled around at the sound of the voice. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when she saw who was talking to her. It was a sweet-looking old woman, a street vendor selling various items of clothing, and she was beckoning to Buffy to come over.

Buffy stayed rooted to her spot, automatically scanning the area for potential threats. When she found none, she took a hard look at the woman; she, however, didn’t raise any alarms, either. If anything, she looked at Buffy pityingly, particularly as she took in her appearance.

Well aware of how she looked, Buffy smoothed down her hair a little self-consciously and cautiously approached the woman. 

“Actually, I am,” she admitted. “I was lost out in the desert over there, and I’m a little turned around.”

The woman gasped. “You’re from Bosco then. You poor thing!” she exclaimed, the look of pity intensifying. “Do you know where your family is?”

Buffy felt a lump in her throat, but she ignored it, along with the woman’s question. “If you don’t mind me asking, where am I?”

The woman smiled gently in response, as if she were afraid any sudden movements would scare Buffy away. “You’re in Shima, dear, the last town in Fiore before you reach the deserts of Bosco,” she replied. As she spoke, she picked one of the shift dresses off her display and held it out to Buffy, along with what looked like some money. “You must be tired from your... ordeal. Here, take these. There’s a public bath down that street there and around the corner on your right. This isn’t much, but there are enough jewel there to cover the entrance fee. Once you get cleaned up a bit, there’s a place just to the left of the bath that provides food and shelter to… to travellers from Bosco.” 

Buffy stared at the clothing and money before looking up at the woman. “I can’t accept these--”

“Of course you can,” the woman said briskly. “I pride myself on giving a helping hand when I can. I’m known for it. You’re not going to ruin the reputation of old Granny Marie, are you?”

Buffy couldn’t help but smile, which elicited a warm smile from Marie. “I guess when you put it that way,” she said as she took the gifts, albeit reluctantly. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, dear. It’s the least I can do,” Marie replied. 

With one more nod of thanks, Buffy turned and walked away. She had just reached the corner of the street when she heard Marie mutter something under her breath.

“That poor girl. Someone needs to put a stop to those wretched slave traders.” 

Buffy inhaled sharply, though she kept walking as if nothing were wrong. 

Marie thought she was an escaped slave. It must’ve been a common occurrence here, one that Marie was sympathetic to; most likely others, too, if there was a place set up to take them in, which she now realized was what Marie had been delicately alluding to.

Buffy pursed her lips thoughtfully. Though she fairly certain Ultear wasn’t a slave trader -- just an evil sadistic bitch -- it could be a useful cover story, explaining away any lack of history or knowledge, though it came with its own dangers. She had no idea what the population as a whole thought about escaped slaves, or what this place’s policies were regarding refugees; she doubted everyone was as welcoming. She also wouldn’t be surprised if the slave traders themselves kept an eye on this town, abducting their lost ‘property’ whenever they got the chance. Still, it gave her something to think about. 

Following the directions she had been given, Buffy easily found the public bath. After handing over the money Marie had given her, she stepped inside. She was instantly hit with a wall of steam, and it felt amazing. As quickly as she could, she made her way to the women’s section, stripped down, and turned on the hot spray of water. 

Ordinarily, she would’ve been a little weirded out bathing in front of other women, but she had gone so long without a shower, she didn’t care. Feeling the grime and blood and sweat wash away was one of the most blissful experiences she’d had in a long time. When she stepped into the hot bath a few minutes later, she thought she’d actually died and gone to Heaven.

She had a similar experience when she got out of the bath and put her new dress on. The plain cotton shift Marie had given her wasn’t anything fancy by any means, but to Buffy it was like something straight out of Fashion Week. She felt like a new person walking out of the bath, with all vestiges of her time in the Pit finally gone. 

Well, almost, Buffy thought as she fingered her shiny new scar just below her collarbone. 

Pushing away those dark thoughts, Buffy took a look around. Within moments, she located the safe haven for refugees, but she didn’t go in. She wanted to fly under the radar, and she just didn’t know what would be expected of her if she walked inside. Instead, she walked in the opposite direction. As she made her way down the street, she perused the various stalls, trying to get a feel for the new world she was in. She stopped in her tracks, however, when she came across a news stand. 

According to date printed in the corner of one of the publications, it was April 27th, x784; again, an interesting mix of the familiar and unfamiliar. 

Buffy reached for the newspaper, curious to see what was inside. Just as her fingertips touched the edge of the paper, however, her stomach let out an obnoxiously loud gurgle, one that got the attention of all the people around her. 

Buffy flushed with mortification. She should’ve expected something like that would happen. She was pretty sure her stomach was digesting itself by this point from the lack of food. Still, it was embarrassing, and after a sheepish smile, she quickly left, putting as much distance between her and the news stand as she could.

In her mind, she had no specific destination or even direction. She had simply wanted to get away from the scrutiny she had been receiving. Apparently, her stomach had a different idea, though; the next thing Buffy knew, she was standing in front of a restaurant. 

The aromas emanating from within made Buffy’s mouth water. She was so hungry, she was almost tempted to try a dine and dash. The only thing that stopped her was the negative attention it would bring. 

With a groan, Buffy pulled herself away, thinking that maybe she needed to go to the shelter after all, pride and caution be damned. As she turned to leave, however, a sign in the window of the restaurant caught her eye. It read: _Help Wanted. Inquire Within._

+++

A/N: So… any thoughts/comments/objections to the type of dragon slayer Buffy is? 


End file.
